Right hand. Prince of Darkness. Dmitry Nazarov
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Название: Right hand. Prince of Darkness
Автор: Dmitry Nazarov
Издательство: Издательские решения
isbn: 9785005910066
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– Come on, you’re not in the mood for abuse anymore, – I said confidently, but for some reason this remark only angered him more.
– But you won’t tell anyone anything, – he hissed and, throwing himself at me, began to choke me.
The instincts inherent in the human body called for resistance, to try to unclench other people’s fingers in the struggle for a breath of air. But I didn’t let them. Instead, she closed her own hands around the male’s throat and squeezed harder.
Breathing became easy, and homo sapiens twitched, trying to escape, but, of course, to no avail. I loosened my grip, and Greg Donellan fell lifelessly to the ground.
Driven by instinct, I touched my neck, even though I knew full well that there were no marks left. Leaning over the corpse, belatedly retorted:
– No, you won’t tell anyone. She unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons on the deceased’s shirt and applied the signet ring she wore on her little finger to his chest. An imprint of the rune depicted on the ring appeared on the skin. “This is to get you where you need to be,” I explained, without going into details.
The wind stirred the grass again, making it clear that my actions in this case are unnecessary… Or warning of danger.
I tilted my head, turned my nose. It smelled of people and animals, like horses. And sure enough, literally a minute later, four horsemen drove up to me. A small armed detachment, most likely local law enforcement officers.
– What happened here? one of them asked sternly, holding his heated horse.
– Oh, terrible things, sir! I exclaimed and burst into tears.
Technically, it turned out to be easy.
The man, who must have been the leader of the party, signaled to the others to dismount. Two approached the body of the rapist, the latter remained in place, taking the reins from the hands of the officer. He approached me and deigned to introduce himself:
– I’m Quentin Lott, head of security patrol. The Villa is usually quiet, but this night we decided to drive around the area. I see that our intuition did not deceive us.
His voice softened noticeably, and I made a mental note to myself – the tears of a beautiful young girl have a great effect on men. And Ville, apparently, is a local town on the outskirts of the county of Thornfolk that interests me. That is why my journey started from here.
– Tell me what happened.
I sobbed for order, but did not have time to open my mouth: one of the comrades called out to the officer:
– Quentin, there’s a body! – And for greater accuracy added: – Dead.
The look that Lott had given me turned stern again. The law enforcement officer clearly did not feel joy from the circumstances of our meeting. And that’s right: what is the order from his position? The corpse of a recently strangled man, and an unfamiliar girl who appeared from nowhere at the crime scene. Order is when murderers kill, rapists rape, and respectable citizens sit at home behind seven locks.
“So what happened here anyway?” The officer furrowed his eyebrows.
I burst into tears more than before.
– What are you, Quent, really? One of those who examined the body approached us. – You see, the girl is quite upset.
It seems that when communicating with each other, the members of the squad do not worry too much about the hierarchy. It is not surprising: there are few people, all from a tiny town, I suppose they know each other since childhood.
The guy gently stroked my head. This one did not stuff himself into lovers, he simply decided to take part.
– Judge for yourself, – he again turned to the main thing, – they strangled the peasant – they didn’t poison him, they didn’t put a dagger in his back. Strangled, moreover, it seems, with bare hands, and he looks so healthy. Do you think a girl could?
– Okay, I see it myself, – Lott grumbled. – Why are you mad at me? Need to figure it out. And she is a witness.
– Will you tell? – affectionately asked the, that stood nearby. I nodded, wrinkling my nose. – That’s good. Did you know him? The boy nodded his head towards the corpse.
– Not. He attacked me. I wanted to rape. – I sobbed again and puffed out my chest, showing off the dress, which this infection really managed to wrinkle and even tear at the seam. The men nodded sympathetically, believed, therefore. -And then a miracle happened! The man rode on a white stallion. Young, noble, perhaps. Beautiful. I rolled my eyes romantically. – He dismounted – and ka-a-ak will push this bastard away! They ka-a-ak will grapple in a fight! My soul is gone. And then he fell. And this one, the handsome one, looked at me like that, they say, don’t be afraid of anything, – I lowered my eyes down, pretending to be embarrassed, – jumped on a horse and galloped away. I didn’t even get to thank him. And now with hope she looked up at Lott. – Will you really find him? – Can you send me a message?
– Ugh you! he spat at his feet. – But we didn’t have enough to look for a prince on a white horse. All right, guys, get the body and let’s go. What’s your name? he asked, jumping into the saddle.
– Tess White. I am from a village near the Small Lake. Ask there, everyone knows me.
– Ask if you need it.
I looked after the guards and even waved to the friendly boy when he looked back. The wind quickly dried her tears, a faint smile played on her lips. You will not find any Tess White in the village, Mr. Chief of Security Patrol. And outside it is better not to look. It is of no use to you. Return home and offer a prayer to the Prince of Light for descending the hill safely and without loss.
Chapter 2
Ville was a quiet provincial town, so it is not surprising that any event aroused particular enthusiasm here. Today, the event was a wedding. The pandemonium of people forced me to linger, stopping my chariot for a while (it was by no means harnessed by a horse, as usual with the locals, but more on that later). However, I’m not offended, it was even curious to watch the course of this simple celebration.
The girls dressed up, weaved white, red and orange ribbons into their hair, fastened beads that were tasteless, as for me, around their necks. The men also tried to dress decently, with varying degrees of success. Traditional waistcoats or caftans were worn over the shirts, and even those who usually did not have such a habit tried to comb their hair.
It’s not worth talking about the bride and groom, these, of course, were discharged and happy with life. From the bride, it really blew with simple female happiness, insidiously waiting for her right outside the door of the temple. The groom smiled from ear to ear, as if СКАЧАТЬ